


Two Moons

by Koshmar



Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Baby spoilers for backgrounds of Caleb and Mollymauk, I like to see characters suffer, M/M, Mental Breakdown, Mental Instability, Not Canon Compliant, Slow Burn, Soulmate-Identifying Marks, eventually, sue me, there will be background ships eventually, you are warned
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-01-29
Updated: 2019-02-28
Packaged: 2019-10-19 00:25:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 12,554
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17591267
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Koshmar/pseuds/Koshmar
Summary: “From how I have come to understand it, some people have soulmates Caleb. They come to our lives in some way or another, but during moments, special moments, sometimes the gods will give us a gift, to show the world the bond the two of you share together.”





	1. Es War Einmal

**Author's Note:**

> I am not a writer, but I could not shake this idea off for the life of me, so here we are.

Growing up, Caleb’s life was simple. He lived in a small village, where farming and hard work was valued above all else, and one’s living was dependent upon the harvest of crops, and blessings of the Wild Mother. Though his days were filled with chores, and reading _any_ book he could get his hands on, Caleb’s mother broke up this mundane cycle by recounting tales of old stories that could not be found in any book, much to Caleb's frustration.

It was on every _Sonntag,_ in the evening after supper, his mother would gather him in her arms, and together they would sit next to the warmth of the hearth as she told him about valiant stories she claimed hailed from a time long since passed. Stories of adventurers, beasts, and magic. Caleb looked forward to it every week, to hear tales of adventurers going from rags to riches, of possibilities, of potential.

It was a long week, and when Sunday came around Caleb could hardly wait to sit down by the fireplace with his mother and find a moment of peace. At the end of the evening, when everything was put away, he sat down with his mother next to the fire. As he turned to look at her in anticipation of her weekly story, he saw that she was not looking at him, but instead gazing into the fire. A soft smile decorated her face as her eyes bore into the flames, almost as if she was trying to find an answer from within their sparks.

Before Caleb could inquire about what thoughts plagued his mother’s mind, her head quickly turned over to him, and with a clasp of her hands she said, “ _Nun,_ I think it is about time I tell you of one of my stories, or are you too old to be listening to your mother ramble about fairy tales?”

“ _Nein, nein_ mama, I only turned thirteen three weeks ago!” Caleb said, exasperated. “I’m not _that_ old!”

 

“Oh, okay, my dear,” she chuckled. “Well, I hope you are ready, I wanted to tell you one of my favorite stories tonight.”

 

“Hm…is it the legend of Vasilisa the Beautiful? Oh, or the Firebird! That is one of my favorites, just not Frau Holle, you told that story last week!”

 

“ _Nein, nein_ my dear, it is a story about a girl, and a boy, and how through the power of the gods they found one another,” his mother said as her fingers moved with a magical flourish.

 

“Ah, uh, that’s… _interesting_ ,” Caleb muttered with apprehension. “So, mama, why would the gods choose them? Were they a prince and a princess, or something of that sort?”

 

“ _Nien, nien mein schatz_ , they were just two simple peasant children from distant villages.”

 

“But mama, why would the gods,” Caleb said hesitantly, as he gestured towards the sky, “interfere in the lives of peasants? We are poor, and below such gifts!”

 

Caleb’s mother tutted at him, as she held his hand, and patted it gently. “ _Nien_ , Caleb. Just because of your standing, or how much a day’s pay you make, does not mean you are unimportant. Remember that.”

 

She looked at him with a soft expression on her face. “Though to answer your question, they were chosen because like most people they were destined to be soulmates. One could say, the gods just encouraged the process.” 

 

“Encouraged the process? But what does that even mean? I’ve never read or stumbled upon such a thing before,” Caleb puzzled.

 

“Caleb, just because you have never read about something, doesn’t mean it doesn’t exist, silly boy.” His mother assured as she ruffled his hair.

 

Caleb turned away, his face starting to flush pink. “ _Es tut mir leid_ , mama.”

 

“It’s quite alright my dear, now on to the story, yes?”

 

“ _Ja._ ” Caleb replied, turning his full attention to his mother.

 

“Now, not so long ago, in a certain kingdom, in a certain land, in a village far away lived a girl. Her family were traveling merchants, not quite honest work, but it put food on the table, and they were happy. They had decided to increase their fortune by selling their goods during the various holidays that were celebrated across the land. On this day they were traveling north, to take advantage of the villages coming together to celebrate the fest of Litha.”

 

“When the sun reaches its zenith!” Caleb exclaimed with a small smile starting to form on his face.

 

His mother took hold of his hand and gave it a soft squeeze. “Right you are my dear, now when the family arrived, the girl helped her parents set up the stall with her sister, and then were promptly shooed off to join the festival activities. With a hand full of copper pieces, the world was theirs for the taking.

 

“Before going to take part in the dance around the _Maibaum_ , they purchased some _Bretzel_ , and walked around with the treats in their hands towards the large pole. The large wooden post was covered in vines that wrapped around the beam as if the plant was giving the pole a hug. On the top of the _Maibaum,_ a rainbow of ribbons sprouted like flower petals, and waved slightly in the breeze. The girl searched for the strongest, brightest, ribbon, and once she saw it, she sprinted forward towards it.”

 

“As her hands firmly grasped the ribbon, she had realized someone else had chosen the same ribbon as well. It was a boy in ragged, dirty clothing. His pants were decorated with grass stains, and dirt seemed to speckle parts of his attire in the most random of places. Though he had the kindest eyes, a clear blue that reflected the sky on a summer’s day. And it was at that moment she knew that this was someone special.

 

“…why was he special mama? He seems plain to me.” Caleb muttered with his brows knitted together.

 

“Because my dear, during this fest they had found out that they were gifted a mark by the gods that showed to the world how special they were. A soul mark.

 

Immediately seeing her son’s confusion grow, Caleb’s mother elaborated. “A soul mark is a mark that appears on not by magical enchantment, but out of the bond that we have for an individual that appears the day the two are chosen by the gods. A bond of everlasting companionship that is so strong it appears right before your eyes.”

 

It was after saying this that his mother turned to the fire that had calmed to small embers, gazing at the diminishing dancing flames.

 

She turned back to him, and slowly pulled back the sleeve on her left arm, revealing a small band that appeared to circle her wrist, that at first Caleb believed it to be a thin bracelet, but upon closer inspection, he realized was some sort of marking. His mother held out her wrist for him to hold, and as he looked at it closer it appeared to be decorated with intricate weavings of blades of grass, dittany and primrose flowers. Their color was lightly faded, but the design was something Caleb had never seen before, never known to have existed. He looked at his mom with confusion as she continued to speak,

 

“I had only heard rumors of such a thing happening, but to have it happen to me! Ha, I was flabbergasted. After that we-”

 

“Wa-wa-wait. Wait. Mama, the story was about you? That’s real, soul marks are real?!” Caleb interrupted. He was intrigued, but perplexed by the new information, as he inched closer to his mother still grasping her hand, “So a person, that you are soul mates with, has the same tattoo on their body as you?”

 

“From how I have come to understand it, some people have soul mates Caleb. They come to our lives in some way or another, but during moments, special moments, sometimes the gods will give us a gift, to show the world the bond the two of you share together.”

 

Turning away from his mom, Caleb pulled his hand away from her hold, and leaned on it as he stared into the fire, digesting this new information. “So you and papa share the same mark, you both are soul mates. Wow.”

 

His mom let out an amused snicker. “Wow, indeed.”

 

At this realization, Caleb looked towards the small frame hanging on the wall next to the fire place, being no bigger than the palm of his hand, it contained the only photo in their cottage. His father in his Empire military uniform, at an age unknown to Caleb. Looking back to his mother, he saw that she too was looking at the photograph with warmth in her gaze.

 

“I know we haven’t seen him for some time Caleb, but he’ll be back for good soon. The empire just needed him for a long assignment, with the promise of lighter work afterwards, so hopefully his absence will fly by faster than a fire bolt, and we’ll be together again.”

 

Caleb’s mother smiled at him, and ruffled his hair again as she sent him off to bed for the night.

 

As Caleb laid under the layers of blankets weighing down on him, he could not go asleep. The excitement of discovering something new filled him with boundless energy. He wanted to learn more about this phenomenon, and was bubbling with energy at the new task of uncovering more information about soul marks. Reluctantly, Caleb eventually fell asleep that night with dreams of traveling to new found lands, meeting new people, and the chance of being chosen by the gods to have a mark adorn his skin.

 

The next morning, before he left to work Caleb woke up with thoughts plaguing his head. He rationalizes that the chance of meeting his soulmate seemed to diminish the longer he stayed in one place. If he was around the same people all the time, with the exception of the few travelers that came into town, the probability decreased.

 

This thought jumped from one to another. Questions of what he wanted to do with his life overwhelmed him, and the fear of growing old as a farm hand petrified him. Caleb knew he wanted to do more than what his village could offer him, but he didn’t know how he could get out, how he could escape.

 

Sitting at their meager kitchen table, weighed down by these thoughts Caleb asked his mother, “Mama, what if I never leave this place, will I never get a soul mark?”

 

“Ah, well Caleb, you need to understand that soul marks are rare, and even if they weren’t real, there is even a smaller chance of meeting your soul mate, let alone having a romantic relationship with them, sometimes your soulmate is more of a sister or a brother from what I’ve been told,” his mother replied as she settled down at the table with two bowls of steaming porridge. 

 

That wasn’t the answer Caleb was looking for, he wanted assurance, not this feeling of helplessness that crept through him, the uncertainty of any positive future.

 

“But what am I supposed to do then?” He huffed in frustration as he combed his fingers through his hair. “Continue to work the land the rest of my life?! I want to be powerful, to help people, to make the Empire proud like papa, to make you proud, how can I do that by doing this!” Caleb shouted, as he gestured to the room around him.

 

Fear grasped his heart. “How can I be anyone, I-you tell me these stories of greatness, of things I will never be able to obtain, how am supposed to-what am I supposed to do with that?!”

 

His mother had moved out of her chair, and kneeled next to him. A frown decorated her usual calm and cheerful face, as she wiped the tears that started to stream down her son’s face. “Caleb, my dear calm down. Caleb deep breaths, focus with me now, in-and out.”

 

When Caleb’s breathing evened out, his mother took both of her hands and cradled his face. Her eyes catching his, as she assured him with words he would never forget.

 

“My son you are one of the brightest people I know, you burn bright with your passion and drive. I know this, your father knows this, and the village knows this, but you need to know this. We are here to support you. We are here, and I know more than anything you will continue to burn bright, and set the world on fire.”

 

* * *

 

When Caleb’s father returned home from his assignment five months later, he watched as his mother and father embraced each other. Happiness and elation radiated from the pair as his father twirled his mother in the air, it seemed almost like something out of one of those romance novels he found hidden in the small library that inhabited his town.

 

As his father set his mother down, he could see the small mark poke out of the sleeve of his father’s woolen coat. Similar in color to his mother’s, with green, purples, and whites blending together in a small band.

 

With his hand held to his chest, Caleb turned around and walked back inside, intent on continuing his studies.

 

A few weeks ago, a neighbor had found some arcane texts in his basement that his grandfather had apparently never told him about. Deeming them useless, and noting Caleb’s interest at obtaining the tomes, his neighbor quickly pawned them off to Caleb for some quick coin.

 

As his parents entered the house, his father came up him and clasped his hand on his shoulder, sending a jolt through Caleb’s body of shock as he was disrupted from his reading.

 

“Ah my boy, wonderful to see you again. Working hard I see?” His father said with a bright smile.

 

Shaking of the surprise, Caleb turned to his father with a small smile. “Yes papa.”

 

Looking down past his shoulder, Caleb saw his father’s brows furrow as he looked at the text. “Well, I can’t make a lick out of what you’re reading there, what have you gotten your hands on?”

 

Caleb flipped through the pages as he came to the cover, and displayed it to his father for but a second before turning back to the page he was on, and continuing his notes. “It’s a book that discusses the grammatical approach of translating runes. The rune alphabet, and its translation to Zemnian, and some formulation. Very basic in its approach, and there are several pages ripped out, but it’s still something.”

 

Caleb’s father seemed more confused than he was before as he ran a hand across his face, but despite this was happy for his son. “Huh, that’s interesting. When we were up north, there was a member of the infantry who was into that sort of thing, runes, magic, all that hokey pokey. I should write them sometime, pick their brain for a bit, see if they could help you out Caleb.”

 

Caleb smiled, and thanked his father for the potential opportunity of talking to a magic user, just as his mother emerged from the kitchen and asked, “and who would that be dear, I didn’t know you worked with any magic users.”

 

“His name was Trent Ikithon, a late addition to the team. He was sent to help us with our offensive planning, smart guy.”

 

* * *

 

When Caleb entered the Soltryce Academy, he had to constantly remind himself that this was real. It was all real. It was not a dream, not this time.

 

The feeling of anticipation burned through him. There was just so much that was new to him, the new people and challenges were around every corner, and he was overflowed with excitement. He knew this place could make him someone, he could be one of the people in his mother’s stories, someone to be proud of.

 

Caleb treasured the new experiences he made, and at some times he felt invincible. He was lucky enough to study with two other’s chosen from his village, and honestly after they arrived together, they became inseparable. With Astrid, and Eodwulf on his side, he knew they could achieve anything.

 

They consumed books, absorbing information, and language like a sponge. They practiced into the early evening, pushing each other further and further, molding themselves into something greater.

 

Caleb had never been happier.

 

* * *

  

Caleb’s ears were ringing. A sharp sound completely drowned out the world around him. Warm light emitted from the flames engulfing the small wooden structure in front of him left him feeling anything but, instead he felt as if he had been thrown into the ice waters of the river, sinking further into the depths of its darkness.

 

_They were traitors, a threat to the empire, they needed to be disposed of, like the others._

_But they were also your mother and father._

And it was then that Caleb broke.

 

His whole body was shaking as he collapsed to the ground. He clenched his hand against his chest to try and quell is racing heart. His lungs burned as he took in each breath of the ashen air. Caleb knew he had to get out, to get out of the academy, away from Trent, to run, to hide.

 

He looked behind him, and saw Astrid and Eodwulf terrorizing the rest of his village, _no witnesses_ , he had remembered. Trent was standing back, “supervising” their destruction.

 

Caleb knew an opportunity when it was staring at him in the face. Focusing on the pain in his chest to anchor him, he pulled himself off the ground and reached into his woolen coat. He pulled out a licorice root and held it in his hands, words of old arcana flowing out of his mouth as he muttered to himself.

 

A light grey energy enveloped his body, and with the haste spell completed, he turned around to look at the village one last time. His home was incinerated, the town in shambles, screams and the crackling of flames filled the air. Everything he knew was gone, everything good, was gone.

 

Just as Caleb was.

 

* * *

  

The steady drip of water against the stone was the only sound that rang throughout Caleb’s cell. Time slowed to a trickle, but never fully stopped in the asylum, and it was only the pain of the treatment that brought him out of the haze that filed his mind, and broke the mundane cycle.

 

He never thought his life would turn out to be like this, trapped in a cell by his own choice, the only family he had taken away by his hand, and no one in the world to blame but himself.

 

As he let out a shuttering breath into the cold wet cell, he could only wonder when his next treatment would be, it seemed like it was the only thing he could look forward to, the only thing that could make him feel something, rather than the numbness that weighed him down.

 

It had to be at least four years, or was it five… Caleb shook his head. He knew that thinking about such things would only make the feeling worse, so he dismissed the thought at he stood up to try and peer out his cell window, the chain around his ankles jingling as he moved.

 

It was a small thing, siting high on the stone wall of his cell. The moon light that sifted through the bars told Caleb he had zoned out longer than he had intended. Caleb shifted further to stand beneath the window, submerged in the white light. He did not know why he did this, maybe on some level he was hoping it would purify him, like how the moon would purify the crystals he used to use in his spells, but he knew no matter how long he stood in the light he would never be cleansed, he was broken, filthy, and a wretched excuse of a human being.

 

As he sat in his cell, the steady drip of water, and his breathing being the only noise, Caleb tilted his head up towards the light, tears starting to well up in his eyes.

 

_Is there any hope for a fate such as mine?! Am I doomed to live out the remainder of this existence rotting in this cell?! What good am I—_

Fire. It felt like fire was erupted in the palm of Caleb’s left hand, but as he grasped his wrist in shock, there was nothing there. No flames, just warmth, a sensation that he had almost long forgotten. The numbing in his hand was melting away, as warmth radiated from it, slowly coursing throughout his body. His chains clinked as he kneeled on the ground in a panic. There was no sign of where this was coming from, and Caleb could only hope it wasn’t the doings of the wardens.

 

Though as his breath calmed, and the warmth in his hand spread further throughout his body, he could begin to see a small mark start to form on the palm of his hand.

 

After what seemed like years, the small mark grew, until it took up almost the entirety of his palm. Two crescent moons appeared, touching, but facing away from the other, with a small overlap. Thin lines made up their appearance. The design was simple, but elegant in a way.

 

Caleb lightly traced over each moon with his finger. _What in the gods name of magic is this?!_

He shifted his gaze back towards the moon, clenching his left hand, and spat out, “What have you done, what designs do you have on a wretched soul such as mine?!”

 

Caleb reasoned with himself there had to be an explanation, but with his foggy mind, he couldn’t think properly. He couldn’t recall any tome, book, scroll, or piece of literature that could explain this!

 

Pulling himself up with a sigh, chains clinking in tow as Caleb walked to bed, he couldn’t shake the feeling of what happened to him. He continued to try and remember, remember something! It felt like trying to recount a dream one had in the morning: the idea was there, but the content long forgotten.

 

His bed was cold, and the coverings hardly provided warmth, but there was some comfort in laying on the lumpy mattress that reminded him of the one he had at home. Filled with so many lumps, his mother used to say that field mice used to store rocks in it.

 

_Heh._

And in an instant Caleb remembered. He remembered his mother, her kindness, and warmth. He remembered his father, his support, and bravery. Memories repressed flooded his mind, like the breaking of a dam they flowed past his eyes. The stories, the adventure, and potential, and most of all, to his shock and horror as he looked at his hand, he knew what was on his hand.

 

It was _his_ mark.

 

His soul mark.

 

* * *

  

The moon hung low in the air across the expanse of the empire, shining brightly as it watched the life below. Many a great distance away, in the depths of the forest, all was quiet… mostly.

 

In a clearing that was bathed in the glow of the moon, the air was quiet, as opposed to the chaos that seemed to of plagued the clearing sometime earlier. Abandoned shovels, tarps, candles, and paint littered around the clearing, circling around the center of it. In the middle of the abandoned camp laid a long mound of newly moved dirt, untouched.

 

Until, like a beating heart, the earth began to pulsate up, and down. Rising as if it had a life of its own. When after a few moments, the ground exploded upwards as a clawed hand emerged from its depths. Another hand shot forward, and grasped the dirt as the rest of the creature was able to pull itself from within the soiled grave.

 

As the creature brought themselves above ground, trying tirelessly to intake some oxygen, to gain some sense of the world around them, but they could only bring one word to mind.

 

_Empty._

 

They could only feel empty. They clenched, and released their hands in a continuous pattern, trying to gain some understanding of the world around them. As they looked at their right hand, one lone red eye stared right back at them, unblinking, as if it was looking into their soul.

 

They shook themselves to rid the same _empty_ feeling that crawled up their spine. Looking up, and around the clearing, they tried to find something else to focus on, to distract them. Though all they could focus on was the soft white light that descended from the darkness above. It was beautiful, almost ethereal.

 

The tiefling tilted their head toward the sky to find the source of the light, and found themselves staring at the moon.

 

It was then that they knew moon was the light in their darkness, their joy, their salvation.

 

They reached toward the darkened sky in hopes of conveying their gratitude to the moon for its light, for its protection, and warmth.

 

Though as they lowered their left hand, they saw another mark flash by their eyes. Picking their hand up to inspect it further, unlike the red eye that decorated their right hand, this mark was completely different. It was dark, and graceful in its design, and when they looked at it, a warm flutter echoed through their chest.

 

After they gathered their bearings, and the cold air creeped around the meadow, the tiefling looked around and made the decision to walk to the right.

 

They did not know where they were going, who they were, or what their plan was.

 

What they did know is that they were filled with two conflicting thoughts. Like a mantra, _empty-empty-empty-empty,_ continued to repeat in their head, followed by the cold feeling that came with it. But it was fighting against this other feeling. This feeling of warmth that had awoken them from the darkness, that shot from their hand through their body like a bolt of lightning.

 

They suspected the moon had something to do with it.

 

 _Well maybe not just the one moon,_ they thought as they looked back at their palm, to the mark of two inter connecting crescent moons.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! 
> 
> I was really nervous about posting this, I've been reading fan fiction forever, but had never written a story, so I figured I'd give it my best!
> 
> I really hope you've enjoyed it!
> 
> I plan on updating bi-weekly at a minimum, so keep an eye out for the next chapter, it might be up sooner than you think!
> 
> Also feel free to follow me on tumblr @ladykoshmar or stop by if you have any questions, or leave a comment!
> 
> All the best to you <3


	2. The Meet Cute

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've never been so happy to finish a chapter.

To say the least, Trostenwald was not Mollymauk’s favorite town the circus had traveled to. It was small, simple, and had crownsguard popping up all around it like little prairie dogs.

 

An absolutely _delightful_ place.

 

Though, the surrounding fields of gold grain that rippled gently in the wind, and the earthen smell that emitted from the various breweries did add a bit of flavor to this otherwise dull place. The town was charming in its own way, sure, but Molly had been to a great deal of charming towns, and like all the rest, Trostenwald was just a place filled with people. People that needed an escape.

_And what better way to escape than a Carnival?_

 

It was late morning, and Molly was just about done getting dressed, as he shifted into his quilt of a coat, and flipped the collar up. He then lazily turned around to the chipped mirror propped against one of the tent posts and unfurled his hair from within the confines of the jacket, and gave himself a quick look over.

His dark pants were tucked perfectly into his trusty above the knee worn leather boots he had just polished this morning. He decided to couple the pants with one of his favorite silky cream blouses, after having an internal debate with himself about it, and topped it all off with his heavy crimson woven coat to add some contrast the rest of the simple colors and fabrics he was wearing.

 

Satisfied with his appearance, Molly walked away from his make shift boudoir with a swish and flick of his tail. He pulled back the multicolored fabric of his tent and stepped outside.

 

The sunlight filtered through the air, and provided a small release of warmth to the otherwise crisp day. After taking in a deep breath, and letting the cold air fill his lungs, Molly bent down, and picked up a bound stack of flyers off the ground.

 

With the large stack in a comfortable position nestled into his side, he made his way straight towards a tall pale woman who was leaning against a post adjacent to his tent. She was dressed and various shades of grey clothing that made her stand out against the earthly colors around her. And as Molly walked closer, she appeared to be twirling some kind of wild flower in her hand, inspecting it with a soft grace that rivaled her rough exterior.

 

Molly approached her as he was unceremoniously starting to shove the flyers into his pockets. “Oi Yasha, let’s go yeah? We need to share the good news.”

 

Yasha, gently stored the flower in a lock of hair, and turned to the purple tiefling, who was notably sparkling a little more than usual. Some type of charm perhaps. Though after giving him a quick glance it seemed the light was catching on all parts of his skin. Maybe it was just a lot of glitter, she thought. As she watched Molly forcing the last of the flyers into his coat, Yasha spied small sparkles dance off his body, falling slowly into the grass. Yeah, it was most definitely glitter.

 

Satisfied with her quick deduction, Yasha pushed herself off the beam, and started to walk in step with Molly. “Alright, yeah, lead the way.”

 

They walked together down the dirt path to the center of town from where they were set up from outside the Loch Ward. Shoulder to shoulder, Molly and Yasha strolled in comfortable silence. A simple pastime they both enjoyed.

 

The ability to just be with someone and take in the moment, was something that Molly cherished. While yes, he did find evenings with drink, and strangers fun and exhilarating, though the down side was...those things were all too easy to find. They weren’t special. Moments where a pot of tea is shared between friends in a tender moment, or the soft melody of a voice being performed to a small makeshift family, these were precious to Molly. They were moments of peace, and they were times that Molly yearned for.

 

 _Perhaps because he had so few memories to begin_ _with_.

 

Shaking himself out of his thoughts, Molly quickly realized they had started to approach the center of the village. He started to get to work right away, haphazardly sticking the flyers to the side of buildings, passing them out to children, and at times just tossing a hand full of them in the air, much to Yasha’s amusement.  

 

After some time, Molly was able to talk to a few townsfolk, and pass off some flyers, but he knew he needed to find some kind of establishment where there were a lot of people he could hook into coming to the show.

 

He had tried the Old Mud Hole Tavern, but figured it would probably be better to find a bar that was actually inhabited by people, rather than an unconscious patron, and dust particles.

 

Looking around the sparse village square, he saw a small general store, _good idea, but not a likely success,_ the edge of the Crownsguard Stockade, _a_ _definite no,_ and a two story building with a wooden sign swaying from its iron frame, proudly displaying the name, _The_ _Nestled Nook Inn_.

Upon immediately landing his gaze on the inn, Molly felt an instinctual pull towards it. He knew had a good sixth sense, but this was a little bit much, even for him.

 

The inn did appear to be the perfect place to find potential customers, and there was not much left of the town to explore. But there was something more to it, something deep within him that told him to **_go inside_**.

 

Molly turned around to Yasha, who was already looking at him with one eye brow raised, bemused. It always seemed she knew what he was thinking even before he did. Nevertheless, Molly clapped her shoulder, and ushered her forward towards the inn, they had a job to do.

* * *

As Molly and Yasha entered the inn, and the heavy wooden door shut behind them, the pungent smell of beer and pork invaded their noses. The tavern was full of customers, and had a nice calm chatter that flowed amongst the tables which intermingled with the clinking of glasses, and clatter of cutlery.

 

It appeared some patrons of the inn were hollering at the barmaid to refill their steins, already deep in their cups for the day, a beautiful scene adding to the equally lovely decor.

 

_Who knew wood on wood on wood accents, poor lighting, and suspicious looking puddles could actually make a place look....inviting?_

 

Normally upon entering an establishment Molly would immediately launch into a speech talking about the grandeur of the  _Fletching and Moondrop Traveling Carnival of Curiosities_ , adding a little mystique through a small reading perhaps, or recalling an account of a death defying act, but at this moment he was unable to mutter a single word. Molly’s eyes began to flicker around the room, searching for _something._

 

Looking around he noticed he certainly had the attention of the patrons with his ostentatious presence, completely disinterested in their previous conversations.

_Good, the glitter worked._

But now that was irrelevant. Molly came into this establishment looking for something.

 

His crimson eyes darted around the room in search for the source of the feeling that brought him inside to this very inn, and as he turned to the right, his eyes stopped at the group of people huddled in the corner of the room, their gaze steadily locked on to Yasha and him.

 

They were an interesting group to say the least, all different colors and shapes, much like his patch-work coat. Though Molly could taste the tangible tension that radiated off the group. It felt like a mix of conflict, awkwardness, and curiosity.

 

Oh how he wanted to remedy _that_ situation.

 

Or, make it more _interesting_.

 

Molly looked back towards Yasha, and gave a slight nod to the group. She gave him a soft smile, and followed him as they made their way to this group of strangers.

 

As they approached the tables, with all of group's eyes on Molly, he flourished his hands and addressed them, “Well, I don’t believe I’ve ever seen a group of people more in need of a good time in my entire life.”

 

Words were exchanged, hands were shook, and much to Molly’s delight he was offered a seat.

 

He sat down, leaning his elbows on the table, with his head resting in his hands, getting a better look at the rest of the group, and immediately his eyes locked with those directly across from him.

 

His heart skipped a beat. His mouth became parched.

 

In that split second Molly knew he was in trouble.

 

Because he was drowning in cobalt blue eyes, and for the life of him he really didn’t care to start swimming. 

* * *

After leaving the Nestled Nook Inn, Molly felt throughly satisfied with the day so far. He was able to gather a good amount of interest for the show, and meet the most charming group of strangers one could find in this podunk town. 

 

They were a delightful bunch; a group he would be looking forward to be spending some time with at the carnival should they decide to come. He hoped at least the blue tiefling would show up, he would love to read her fortune again, or even just spend some time with her. Immediately after meeting her, he knew he could consider her to be a sister trickster, and could only imagine what troubles they would get into if she were a part of the circus. Molly thought she was absolutely delightful in her charm, and wonder, much unlike her traveling companions.

 

Without a doubt, he did understand they were curious about the show. The one called Beau did seem genuinely interested in the circus performance, though she did also look equally interested in Yasha. Whereas Fjord just seemed happy an opportunity for something to do to distract the other two in his group sprung up.

 

The smaller one, Nott, was amusing for sure, and an easy tease which could be fun at times. Though she was a little unsettling with the way her eyes tracked those at the table, including him. Add her mask, and honestly, Molly couldn’t’ get too good of a read one her. He supposed she was paranoid and abrasive because she wanted to protect her traveling companion, but who didn’t? Molly could definitely sympathize.

 

But the one next to Nott, the dirty red-head, seemed more on edge than his goblin companion. Blunt, and completely withdrawn into himself. After Molly was able to pull himself out of his initial trance, he continually found himself sneaking glances at the man. His whole demeanor just made Molly feel sad, and whenever he looked into his eyes and caught his gaze, it took all of his effort to look away.

 

Sure, Molly has meet a great deal of people that were beautiful and enigmatic, but there was something about Caleb that pulled him in, he just couldn’t place a finger on it. This was all complete mystery to him, and Molly did not need another unknown in his life.

 

Shoulder to shoulder Yasha and him made their way back to the camp, the sun laying low in the sky.

 

Molly turned his head back, looking at the town behind him. Candles, and torches were starting to be lit from within the buildings, adding to the soft orange glow that fell upon the dark homes, that were beginning to be laid in the shadow of the approaching night.

 

Blue eyes flashed in his mind’s eye as he turned back around to the carnival.

 

_Moonweaver I hope they come tonight._

* * *

If he was completely honest with himself, Caleb felt a little overwhelmed, well, more overwhelmed than usual. Being around people, especially colorful, bright, attention grabbing people did not bode well with him.

 

The monk was loud, really loud, and had no sense of personal boundaries. Though when she wasn’t talking, Caleb could tell she was paying attention to anything and _everything_. Her eyes darted across the room at the slightest bit of noise, focusing on people who were tables away only to fall back into what was being presently said with in their group. For what reason she did this, Caleb did not know, but what he did know is that he needed to be cautious around Beauregard.

 

Jester was just loud in every sense of the word. Her voice, fashion, and actions gravitated attention to her whether it was her intention or not, and her blue skin made her stick out like a sore thumb. Caleb never even knew of the possibility for tieflings to be so blue, not that he knew many tieflings, but it just seemed to highlight her intensity even more. Thankfully, it appeared after she was satisfied with her queries about him, and was currently more interested in focusing a majority of her energy into tricks and drawing dicks. Though despite her niceties, she won’t be someone Caleb will be getting close to anytime soon. She is too curious for her own good.

 

Fjord, well, Caleb isn’t too sure what to think of Fjord. He seemed nice enough. He has a calm demeanor, and some kind of authority and direction that Caleb recognizes and respects, a certain kind of disposition he knows he lost a long time ago. Though besides that, he couldn’t pick much else off of Fjord, and that worried him. There is always more to a person than meets the eye. An ocean can be beautiful and blue on the surface, but there are always creatures lurking beneath the waves.

 

Or perhaps Caleb’s paranoia is getting the best of him in this situation.

 

The only reasonable benefit to hanging around this group of flashy characters is that Caleb himself would not stand out so much among them. He and Nott were not as ‘showy’ as their walking companions were. He hoped that by attaching himself to the tail of their group he would have any and all attention that would have been drawn on him, deflected to those around him.

 

Though, maybe because of his lack luster, dirty appearance he would look to be the odd duck out in this group, and stand out even more.

 

 _Scheisse._ At this rate he’ll be thinking in circles.

 

By the time Caleb was able to pull himself out of his thought spiral, his feet had found themselves slightly behind rest of his rag tag group at the entrance of the carnival.

 

The large grassy plain was now decorated with colorful patchwork tents, all connected with tiny multicolored flags with a large blue tarped tent set up in the middle. Townsfolk were sprinkled around the grounds, clamoring in excitement for the night’s events. Some were admiring the soft glow of colors of light that glowed from the various tents, while others were gathered in small groups, waiting for the show to begin.

 

Looking towards the big top tent, he easily spotted the larger woman from before. She was standing at its entrance, arms crosses, with a small smile on her face as she observed those around her. Caleb thought she seemed nice. Sure, maybe a little rough around the edges, but despite her bluntness at the inn, Caleb felt she was something akin to an old soul. Though, he was sure she would have no trouble asserting herself if needed be. Hopefully no one does anything foolish, and step on her toes.

 

Caleb walked further into the circus, despite his brain telling to leave, go back to the inn, and lay under the comfort of the covers with one of his spell books. He weaved his way through the various groups, not paying much attention to the talk of the crowds.

 

The atmosphere was filled with childlike wonder, and anticipation for the performances. It was slightly cathartic, for one moment to lose yourself and be spirited away to a world of mystery and mystique, to forget the world around you.

 

Caleb’s thoughts came to a halt as laughter filled the air. His attention drawn to the commanding voice coming from within a small circle of gathered individuals. Approaching the circle, he immediately recognized the voice which belonged to the vibrant individual who introduced themselves earlier as Molly, Mollymauk Tealeaf.

 

Caleb stood just outside the circle, where he was able to get a good look at the purple tiefling who was…... _definitely_ swindling a farmer. They seemed not to notice Caleb as he approached, too absorbed in their act.

 

It puzzled Caleb, to see an individual such as Mollymauk act around others. They presented themselves in every way Caleb purposely did not. They were genuine in their remarks, touchy with those around them, and seemingly completely open about their lifestyle. It almost made Caleb burn with jealously with the way they conducted themselves. _Almost._

 

Caleb watched Molly draw more cards from their deck and place them before the farmer. A large smile decorated their face as they talked about the wonderful harvest that would come to the farmer’s crops as a result of his hard work. Caleb’s brows furrowed as he watched the farmer shed a tear at the reading of the cards.

 

_Liar._

 

Caleb knew he was not excluded from high moral standing, and had no place to judge, but an individual who makes their living off of lies normally has a few of their own. Caleb knew that too well.

 

But more he watched Mollymauk, the more conflicted he became. They spoke of hope, and good things to come, as if they had control over such things, and for a moment, Caleb wished they did.

 

Perhaps it is Mollymauk’s stark differences towards life that make them so charming, or maybe it is their devil may care attitude that Caleb can only envy, but there is something about Mollymauk that Caleb finds himself drawn to, almost like a moth to a flame.

 

This afternoon, seeing Mollymauk barge in through the door gave him quite a shock, and when he sat down and locked eyes with him, Caleb felt frozen in his chair. He blamed his detached lifestyle for his reaction, it couldn’t be because of anything else, surely.

 

It had to be because of his nervousness around these strangers that his heart beat quickened, that the unpleasant feeling of pricking warmth coursed through his hand, that he couldn’t look anywhere else but at the colorful tiefling before him.  

 

Caleb turned away from the small circle, intent on finding Nott. He clenched his left hand beneath against his side. Not noticing the pair of red eyes shift towards his figure, watching him leave.

 

Whatever he had felt earlier in the inn, he hoped it would never return again.

* * *

Things could never be easy could they. The carnival just had to have a fiendish creature, and it just had to attack the evening they attended. Caleb didn’t even want to go. Closed spaces, loud noises, and people did not translate to a good time, but Nott had looked so hopeful, and Caleb felt he owed her this little venture. She deserved a break, and the opportunity to be normal, with people, rather than lurking around with him.

 

Then as a _normal_  circus event would go, two undead show up, and total pandemonium unfolded. They fought for their lives, and then were accused of aiding in the matter.

 

_Perfect._

 

They should of left. Nott and him could of handled things on their own. They had been for a while now. This would have just been marked off as a bump in the road towards their goals and nothing else.

 

But it wasn’t. Nott wanted to help the group of strangers, and the carnival. She saw something in them that was worth their time, and skills, something worth risking their skin for. She told Caleb she was determined to do the right thing. Caleb collected her small hand with in his and gave it a light squeeze and softly replied, “Ja. Okay, let’s do it.”

 

Caleb admired his little friend so much.

 

And now here they were, days later, somehow still together, and still alive.

 

Caleb was a little shaken. He had willingly going into battle against a creature he had only heard about in stories, nearly died, found himself being given the claim that he defeated the beast singlehandedly, and was being investigated by crownsguard. _Wunderbar._

 

Caleb was starting to doubt his choices.

 

Exhausted from the fight, the group piled into the fishing boat, being careful not to trip on the uneven ground. The creature’s head barely covered by Jester’s small cloak, sat in the middle, splitting their group on to two sides of the boat. It was a tight fit. Nott was packed close against the right side of his body, _always near never far_ , and Mollymauk had his arm pressed against his left shoulder, supporting Toya in both arms.

 

They talked strategy. What to do once they go off the boat, and their next course of action. They agreed upon a plan that should resolve the situation at Trostenwald. Though when the discussions of plans ended, fatigue started to seep into the group, leading the boat to fall silent as it drifted across the lake.

 

The still waters were only slightly illuminated by the moon hidden behind a tuft of dark clouds. In the shrouded darkness, Caleb tucked Nott under his arm in hopes of her getting some kind of rest during the remaining time they had on this boat. On the other side of the creature's head he could make out the figures of Fjord and Beauregard leaning against one another, probably asleep. Jester's smaller form was squished next to Fjord, and it seemed she was pouring over some kind of book that she had pulled out.

 

The pressure on his left arm shifted slightly, drawing Caleb’s attention back to the tiefling sitting next to him. It appeared Toya was peacefully asleep in Mollymauk’s arms. The moonlight, though dull on account of the heavy cloud coverage, gave enough light to allow Caleb to see what he assumes is just a small percentage of the tattoos Mollymauk had on their body. They seemed intricate, and detailed, much like the cloak they wear. His gaze shifted from Mollymauk's hands, along the sleeve of their cloak, upward, to their face, where a pair of dark red eyes caught his.

 

There was a brief moment of fear at being caught staring, but Caleb didn’t see the judgmental look he was accustomed to, no, Mollymauk’s eyes were soft, but focused, and their brow was slightly pinched. It was a look Caleb had seen on faces of old friends when confronted with problem they felt was unsolvable, searching, hoping the answer would pop out of midair.

 

Caleb turned away, blood rushing to his cheeks in embarrassment, finding the darkness more preferable than Mollymauk’s unwavering stare. It was too much attention, and he did not want it.

 

He did **not** want it.

 

He did **not** want their curious gaze.

 

He did **not** want her protection.

 

He did **not** want them to lean against his arm.

 

He did **not** want anything.

 

He.Could. **Not**.Want.Anything.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oooo some denial peppered in with confused feelings!! How delicious, am I right?!  
> \---  
> I am so happy. This chapter took so long for me to finish, though I am still with in my time frame of two weeks, so yay for sticking with a schedule!
> 
> Thank you all so, sooo much for your support. The kudos and reviews on the first chapter really warmed my heart!!!
> 
> I will probably keep the two weeks as the time for you guys to expect the next update. I wish I could churn something out sooner, but life is life, and writing isn't really natural for me, so it takes some time for me to actually "write," and then edit my work, and then happy with the final result.
> 
> But let me know your thoughts and feelings! With Valentine's Day around the corner, the best way to show your love to your local fanfic author is via reviews and kudos! I eat them up like chocolate, and I know others do too! Spread the love! <3
> 
> And if your wish to find me, to talk about the story, or anything else, I'm on tumblr @ladykoshmar! <3


	3. The Feelings You Thought You'd Forgotten

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apologies for being late on this chapter! Last week something came up, and between that, "life," and my D&D campaign I run, I wasn't able to get any writing done until recently!
> 
> Note: Also I will be mentioning some *small* spoilers pertaining to episode 48, and I guess episode 10? They're v small.

“Oh, and Caleb, feel free to meet us at the circus after-” **Slam**. The door of the _Nestled Nook Inn_ let out a puff of dust as the small figure of Nott, and the hunched form of Caleb trailed that behind her disappeared into the lively streets of Trostenwald.

“Oh,” replied Molly, as he gave a nonchalant shrug at their disappearance from the inn. He turned around, and leaned forward in his seat, giving his attention back to the rest of the group, “well, they’re gone, I guess I’ll be off as well, I’ll see you all later, yeah?”

Grunts of confirmation emitted from Beau and Fjord, and in Jester’s case a loud “See you later, Molly!” was all he heard as he placed his coin on the table, and walked out the door.

The transition from the dim light of the tavern to the glare of the mid-afternoon sun made Molly pause, and raise his hand to protect his eyes as they adjusted to the bright world around him. 

It appeared even with the misfortunate attack on the circus only a few days behind them, people were still going about their life as if nothing had changed. A soft breeze danced across Molly’s face as he looked about the town. The creaking of carts, and small conversations filled the air. Looking back at the events that occurred only a few days ago, it was strange to see the town as it once was.

Another gust of wind passed over Molly, carrying his hair in to the air, and sending shivers down his spine. He felt restless, and standing around staring at carts for the rest of the day was not going to help in any form. Molly shoved his hands into the silk lining of his ostentatious jacket, and turned right, making his way to the Loch Ward.

His feet carried him as he wove his way through the village, catching the eyes of those he passed. Most stared, never mind that, everyone stared. Happily hiding behind their hands, while their eyes pierce him with a judgmental gaze.  

Molly liked the way he looked. Dressing in silks, and woven patterns allowed him to express his individuality, love of life, and discover prejudice pricks. Whether they be friends or foe, he found it easier to glean someone’s first impression when he looked like a boisterous brazen buffoon, rather than a _civilized_ traveler. In Molly’s experience, being able to garner an immediate first impression of himself from others has helped him guard his heart with a greater ease.

There were few people in Molly’s life he found he could just _be_ himself with, people he didn’t have to put up an act for. Though in the light of recent events, it appeared the only person that fit this category was Yasha, and he didn’t even know what plane she was on right now! She could be half way across the empire and Molly wouldn’t even know it. He let out a frustrated huff as he continued to walk along the dirt path.

Yasha reminded Molly of a wildflower. Beautiful in her own way, not to be cultivated, or controlled, always returning from the harsh winter. Despite their differences, she was his closest friend, his rock, and support. Without her he didn’t know what he would do.

Molly’s slightly heeled boots made a soft _klunk, klunk, klunk,_ as he lazily crossed wooden planks, coming to a stop. He found himself at the edge of a small abandoned dock in the Loch Ward. It appeared to be missing a few planks, but looked stable enough.

The soft breeze that flew off the surface of the lake added a welcoming chill to the air. The Ward was quiet and peaceful. The large island which they had traveled to nights’ prior dwarfed the fishing boats that dotted the murky surface of the lake, and a small fog caressed the surface of the water, giving an almost ethereal feeling to the lake.

Looking down at the edge of the dock, Molly sat down on the warped wood, and dangled his legs over its edge, slightly brushing the surface of the water as he swayed his legs back and forth. 

Molly was worried. Change was something he usually welcomed in open arms, but the events that transpired with the circus, well it completely blindsided him. He knew the show couldn’t go on forever, but he more or less expected it to come to an end with Gustav’s retirement, not a jail sentence. The thought of starting over again made Molly’s tail anxiously brush behind him. The circus was with him from the beginning. They didn’t have any expectations of what he should be, they gave him a place to live, to grow, to call home, and that constant in his life, is most likely gone for good.

Except there was Yasha, and like the wildflowers she would always return, and that thought was one comfort Molly could take with him as the life he had made for himself these past two years started to crumble around him.

And then there was this new group Molly was more or less now a part of. They had handled themselves well enough in a fight, but otherwise they were a right mess. They mixed like oil and water. They were loud, argumentative, opinionated, and the worst group that could possibly be put together.

 

Molly thought they were a riot.

 

Though, they were all strangers to Yasha and him, and despite putting on the mask of an outgoing friend making individual, Molly knew he couldn’t trust them, not yet. He didn’t believe they would be going about abandoning him, or something of that sort, he just would have to keep an eye out for them. They were a curious bunch, and Molly had secrets under his sleeves he would prefer would never see the light of day.

He didn’t want to face his past, or lack thereof one. He didn’t want to lose himself to the emptiness that resided inside of him.

Molly had to remind himself, it would be _fine_. He would survive this change. This life was his, this body was his. These hands were his. And though his skin is decorated with scars of injuries he never felt, and red eyes that saw things he would never see, he reclaimed his skin. He made it his own tapestry of colors, everything on it Molly embraced as a part of him. Every feather, flower, and image on his body was chosen with a purpose. Even if the purpose was to conveniently conceal the multitude of red eyes that adorned his body, they were now a part him in the way he wanted them to be.

While Molly did mask the red eyes that he was born with on his body, he couldn’t bring himself to rid of _all_ his marks.

His left hand splayed out before him, revealing to the world the intersecting black crescent moons. He never could find it in him to try and cover the mark on his left hand, even if ink would cover it for that matter. He wasn’t sure if it was _his_ , if it was some side effect of the ritual that brought him to life, or a gift from the Moonweaver. When he looked at his palm, the moons didn’t feel like the red eyes. When he looked at the red eyes for too long, prickles of pain would shoot through his skull, as fear, and anxiety would grip him. Whereas the moons made him feel safe, comforted, but also confused.

Molly had no idea what they were, but he hoped they wouldn’t cause any issues in the future. 

Molly let out a frustrated sigh, and closed the palm of his hand. The sun was starting to sink beneath the horizon, and the lake reflected the blended blue and orange sky above. The fog had lifted, and the waters appeared so calm it looked as if one could run across them to the other side of the lake.

He figured he could sit here a little while longer, and enjoy this moment while he could.

* * *

 The smell of lavender, and heavy steam filling the air of the bath house provided a welcomed escape from the world wind of activities, events, and people that had recently transpired in the past few days. For Caleb, the protection of the group was a welcome relief against the days when Nott and him had to rely on themselves and their paranoia to survive, but it was still a bit too much, too new. The bathhouse was a perfect escape.

As he disrobed, he could hear Nott’s little feet skittering along the tile in different directions. Probably looking at various trinkets, and baubles to…admire. He smiled softly to himself as he folded his clothes and made work at unwrapping his arms. Nott was truly a blessing, and she deserved something nice like a bath. While he knew parchment, ink, and spell components were valuable, the opportunity to gift a small luxury to a friend was even a greater purchase in Caleb’s mind.

Slowly he inched himself into the steaming water, all before submerging his body entirely, with the exception of his head of course. The feeling of his muscles relaxing and unwinding in the scented water was blissful.

After soaking in the water for a few minutes, Caleb started to work on giving himself a good clean. He grabbed the bath oils, chamomile and lavender scented, and began to wash himself for the first time in what feels like months. 

He made quick work on himself, intent on using the rest of his time to read one of the books he acquired earlier. Though when he got to his arms, he slowed down his scrubbing to a soft lather, mindful of the sensitive scarred skin. It was hard not to focus on every line that trailed along his forearms. Some were isolated, some intersected, and others seemed to glow as if they still held gemstones beneath his skin. They were easy to get lost in, like a maze that had been carved into his skin, winding, crossing, and ending at his hands.

It was remarkable, that something that looked so worn, callused, and scarred, could create so much destruction, and to be the very place where his soul mark was displayed. Caleb traced the two intersecting moons hypnotically, a habit he had developed after it materialized on his skin. In the asylum he would stare for hours at a time at the palm of his hand, searching for answers that would never come. It was the one thing he could focus on before he was given an ounce of his sanity back. 

The gods must be laughing at him, giving him such a mark. It feels as if he has already broken a promise he had never even made. He could not even fathom there being a person on this plane that he was worthy of being bound to for a lifetime. He could only hope they would never have the misfortune of meeting him.

Sinking deeper into the water, the edges of his hair began to float about. He drifted towards the edge of the bath, dried off his hands, and propped up his book. As he read, Caleb started to braid his hair in a crown around his head, hoping to keep it from being plastered against his neck and face. His hands flowed through his locks instinctively, weaving around the top of his head. Some pieces didn’t seem to hold in the locks, but it seemed to do its job well enough.

Satisfied, Caleb leaned against the side of the pool, reading page after page, trying his best not to gaze at his left hand.

* * *

The journey to Alfield was slows going. With one horse pulling the cart, the group would either take turns walking along side it, stretching their legs, or laying in the back. On the last leg of their journey, Caleb had found himself walking behind the cart, book in hand. It was a nice break from the others, who all seemed to be piled in the cart, without sacrificing his safety. 

Beauregard was driving the cart, with Fjord on sitting next to her on the bench. Jester was leaning with her back against the driver’s seat, doodling in her journal, describing in detail the image of her drawings. Nott sat isolated in the middle of the cart, her eyes notably darting back and forth to those in the group, and Molly was sitting towards the back. His coat was off, and it appeared he was shifting through a few components in his pack, maybe he was looking for his cards.

Caleb brought his attention back down to his book, mindful of the dips in the road and the rocks that might trip him up. He was granted a few moments of silence before he felt someone’s attention had fallen on him. Caleb ignored it, hoping if he didn’t acknowledge whoever in the group was looking at him, they would grow bored and back to their own devices.

“Hey Caleb, whatcha reading there?” _Well, one could only be so hopeful._ Caleb sighed as he lifted his eyes up to see Mollymauk gazing at him. He was laying down in a languid position, one of his hands dangled over the edge of the cart freely, and the other held his head in his hand.

His eyes flashed like red rubies, and his mouth curved in a gentle smile.

It took Caleb a few second to find his words. He shut the book with a sound, thump, and displayed the title for Molly to see, hoping to hide the growing embarrassing blush on his face. “Ah, well it’s titled, _Many a Menagerie_ , it is a journal about the writers encounter with various creatures.”

“Fascinating, is it a good read?” Molly inquired curiously. In Caleb’s opinion the book was knowledgeable, but written through a very backwardly minded explorer. A person that maybe would have gotten along well with his old teacher.

“The text is informative, yes, but uh it can be a little backwards in the way the author describes his studies.” _How could he say this without being too crass_ , “It, hm, it appears they did not favor certain creatures, or individuals. Those sections are difficult to read.”   

Molly’s eyes flashed for a moment, and before Caleb could discern what they were thinking, Mollymauk waved their hand, “Oh, well don’t torture yourself over reading such things, your brain needs a break every once in a while.”

“I suppose,” Caleb murmured, as he tucked the book under his arm, still unsure about where this was all going. Before he could think about Mollymauk’s intentions about starting conversation with him, he noticed he had strayed a bit from the cart and hastened his pace, bringing himself not a foot away from the cart. He tried not to think about Mollymauk’s eyes following him the entire time.

In this moment, Mollymauk reminded Caleb of Frumpkin, completely at ease, relaxing, without a care in the world, and of those around them. Their eyes fixed on him the entirety of the time. It was a little unsettling receiving so much attention from a single individual.

Trying not to flush anymore under their direct gaze, Caleb glanced at Mollymauk. “Is there, uh, something I can do for you Mollymauk?”

“Oh no, nothing in particular. I’m just _so_ bored,” they drawled out as their eyes shifted off to the distance, before returning back to Caleb’s, “I hate to ask, but do you have any story to tell that might be more interesting than a racist’s account of creatures?”

Caleb of course had a plethora of stories, poems, and prose he could narrate to Mollymauk. His head was a never ending library of memories, and information, and he could easily spin a tale he read years ago that would surely entertain them for the next hour of their journey. But Caleb was hesitant. Even if it was just a _story,_ his knowledge was really the last thing that was _his._

The idea of giving up something personal was harder for Caleb than it should have been. His eyes fell to the ground for a few seconds, _maybe it would swallow him whole. If only he were so lucky._

It was so damn frustrating for Caleb. _It shouldn’t be this hard to talk with someone, to divulge them in a simple story._

“-Or if not that’s fine too, I shouldn’t have interrupted your reading, sorry about that.” Pulled out of reverie, Caleb saw Mollymauk give him a soft smile as they turned over in the cart, distancing themselves from the wizard.  

Clenching his hand, Caleb tried to focus his anxiety and frustration into the pain and pressure. He was pathetic. Incapable fulfilling such a simple request. He wished he wasn’t like this.

Summoning all of his courage, Caleb found his voice again, “Mollymauk, I think I know of a story you might enjoy.”

Maybe it had been a trick of the light, but Caleb thought he saw Molly’s tail twitch.

“Its, ah, it is not so happy, the story, but it’s about friendship, and I always used to like it as a child, though I always felt bad for the dog, it is a folk story, ah, would you wish me to tell you it?” he rambled out in one breath, trying to look anywhere but at the tiefling.

Molly had turned back around, fully facing Caleb, legs thrown over the side of the cart, dangling in the air. He was leaning forward, giving Caleb his complete undivided attention.

Caleb’s eyes drifted back to Mollymauk’s joyful stare. “My dear I would like nothing more, that is if you don’t mind, I don’t want to be a bother.”

“No its nothing of that sort Mollymauk, I have it memorized word for word, _Der Hund und der Sperling_ isn’t a complicated tale.” Caleb brushed off as he waved his hand.

“Oh, well, thank you. I’m not too acquainted with folk tales of other regions; I think this will be a treat.” Mollymauk responded with a cheeky grin.

Caleb’s cheeks flushed as he muttered, “It’s-it’s nothing special.” Taking a deep breath, calming his heart, Caleb began, “ _Es war einmal, ein Hund, der von seinem Besitzer aufgegeben wurde._ _Der Hund traf einen Spatz und sie wurden Freunde._ _Der Hund ging mit dem Spatz in die Stadt und dankte dem Spatz-"_

“Ah, Caleb, darling?” Mollymauk interrupted. Their tail swaying gently around them.

“ _Ja_ , Mollymauk?” Caleb responded in kind.

“As much as I love the sound of your native tongue, do you mind switching to common?”

Caleb started to grab at his hair out of embarrassment and frustration, causing several strands to fall from their braid, “Ah, _es tut mir leid,_ _nein,_ no, I mean, _ja_ , I’m sorry, and yes of course, how foolish of me.”

Mollymauk chuckled, quickly trying to amend the situation, “No, there is nothing foolish about it, I just am sorry I can’t understand you!”

Caleb gathered his breath once more, and tried to force his face to cool down though will alone. “Well either way, yes, I can speak it in common, the translation just might be off, I’ve only been told it in Zemnian."

With Molly’s earnest stair, and soft smile, Caleb started again, and told of a story between two creatures, a dog who was abandoned by its owner, left to starve, and a sparrow, without a home, traveling to the city. He told how the two creatures met, and became close friends. The dog guiding the sparrow to the city, and the sparrow finding scraps for their friend to eat. Though as the animals fell asleep, the sparrow spotted a carriage coming to hit the dog. The sparrow alerted the man on the carriage, but the man ignored the sparrow, and ran over the dog. The sparrow cursed the man for killing his friend. Pecking at the wine barrels the man is transporting, pecking out the horse’s eyes, and when the man tries to kill the bird, he accidently slays the horses. Causing the man to return home.

It was at this point in the story, Molly was leaning on their legs, head in hands, as Caleb spoke. Caleb himself had taken to walking right up to the cart, at times almost running into Molly’s legs. Gesturing around him to describe certain elements of the story.

Caleb let out a soft laugh as he continued, “and, the man ate the bird whole, thinking death was too cruel for the bird. However, the bird, he, uh, puts out his head out the man’s mouth, which caused the wife of the man to swing the axe. The man dies, and the bird…”

And Caleb stopped.

For a moment it looked as if he was frozen in time. Though much to Molly’s confusion he snapped out of it as soon as soon as he zoned out. The softness in Caleb’s eyes was gone, replaced with a sharp, frantic look as his head turned about.

“I can smell smoke.” Caleb muttered with a tremor in his voice, “There is a fire.”

Mollymauk reached out and grasped his shoulder, hoping to provide some comfort at the wizard’s outburst. The contact made Caleb flinch for a moment, but he didn’t shrug out of his grasp. “Caleb, there is no fire, surely you-”and before Molly could finish their sentence, a loud explosion erupted behind them, causing the sky to be bathed in a hot red glow. Ash and debris fell from above, as the town beneath them, erupted into flames.

Looking back towards Caleb with questions on their tongue, and worry etching in their brow, Mollymauk could only say one thing, “I stand corrected.”

* * *

When Molly decided to joined this _group_ of individuals, he never thought he would find himself in a situation like this. Bandits, small jobs for the empire, all ending with a tankard and a room at a tavern is what he expected, sure, but not seeking out gnolls who organized attacks on villages while kidnapping people for food.

Yesterday was bad enough, but today was worse on account of Molly being willingly underground in a dark cave, the last place in the world he would like to be. If they make it out of this place, he if absolutely going to obtain that turquoise bottle of liquor and drink it in its entirety.

But that would come later, hopefully. For now, Molly had to keep his wits about him. He took a step forward, with his two swords unsheathed. A soft light gently emitted from them as he passed his traveling companions, all readying themselves for the next onslaught of attacks.

Molly’s vision swam in grey hues as Caleb snuffed out his four globules of light with a quick snap of his fingers. Looking back toward Caleb, Molly could see that his right hand ghosted the surface of the wall, and his eyes flickering to his swords as a light source for some sense of direction in the darkness. 

Even with the limited light, Caleb looked apprehensive about entering the next room. His stature was more ridged than usual, and _Hells_ , he could probably only see a few feet in front of himself, he must be scared shitless.

Soundlessly, Molly made his way to stand in front of the wizard who continued to gaze at the light from his swords. “Just follow me, yeah? Can’t have our wizard getting lost in the dark.”

“Oh, _ja,_ _danke_ , Mollymauk.” Caleb whispered softly.

Following the group deeper in to the mines, Molly looks back at Caleb over his shoulder. “Molly, dear, call me Molly.”

* * *

 Caleb was tapped out. He had completely exhausted his higher level spells, and had few options left.

The manticore’s loud chortles echoed through the chamber. The group was hurting, and Caleb knew he had to end this now.

His mind made up, he sprinted in front of Molly, not taking notice of their stare. His boots making a small _tap-tap-tap-tap_ as they ever so slightly touched the floor. His eyes caught a glance of the blonde hair of the high priest, and he hastened his steps. Within moments he was down the stone stairs, and the priest was in his direct line of sight. 

Feet shoulder width apart, his shoulders back, head straight, and target in sight, Caleb raised his hand before him, and started to rapidly recount arcane words. His palm darkened to a dark ashy black that seemed to consume the entirety of his arm.

Just like riding a horse, the spell came back to him with a laughable ease. His magic danced as red sparks around his fingertips, ready to be unleashed.

As Caleb spoke the final word for his spell, he felt his body ignite with from the magic within him, intermingling with his anger from his small goblin friend being hurt by this _arschloch._

The magic and anger coiled around each other like two interwoven snakes, building up inside of him, consuming more of his anger, more of his power, until a large ball of fire erupted from the palm of his hand, and shot forward.

A billowing trail of smoke trailed after the fire ball as it impacted with the priest’s head, immediately devouring the flesh and screams of the priest. The flames burned and engulfed the body, while its unmovable ashen skull stared endlessly into Caleb’s eyes.

 

Caleb’s mind shattered.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ahh!! Another chapter done! I'm so happy, I hope you liked it! Was it moody enough for you, enough feelings?? 
> 
> I love writing these two. I have been having fun writing about this initial change in their lives, and how it impacts them. I feel bc the show is well, a show. There wasn't a time to explore these small moments in detail, so hopefully I've been able to convey a good interpretation of how they would handle this time in their lives, while being true to their characters, but giving my little spin on it!
> 
> I'd like to thank all who have been supporting me with your kudos and comments. It's because of you all that I continue to push myself, and I can never thank you enough!! 
> 
> If you want to talk with me about the story or anything for that matter, I'm on tumblr @ladykoshmar <3 <3


End file.
